


Rapture

by BardsAmbrosia



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: AU where Booker never meets his wife and has Elizabeth, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Booker is somewhat shy with the ladies, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Lutteces r u mad???, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Prohibition, Rough Sex, Segregation, Younger Booker, less drama for yo momma Booker Dewitt, trololo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:42:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2125653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BardsAmbrosia/pseuds/BardsAmbrosia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're the best thing to ever happen to Booker Dewitt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rapture

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of the story, you are not from the U.S., you immigrated there when you were 12 and your accent is noticeable to others.

Being a maid in 1922 in New York was no easy task. Especially if you're a foreigner. Not a lot of pay and even more little respect.

Rushing out of your employer's large mansion, you locked the door went on way to another's.

Unfortunately, you missed the bus by two minutes and fifty five seconds.

You had to wait for the next bus. Your employers never wanted to see you when they got home, so you made sure you finished an hour before they came home.

Every time.

Every bus takes thirty minutes to come around to this stop. And at this rate you'll be starting your work late and won't be gone by the time they get home.

You really don't think this job is worth the risk of abuse. Once you did a job and didn't finish before they got home. They ridiculed, made racial insults, and threw a hot pot of water at you. Luckily it only caught the bottom of your dress and not your skin. You got out of there in an inhuman speed.

The authorities wouldn't help you and you couldn't retaliate because you'd be thrown in jail and who knows how long you'd be kept in there. You would probably lose your little house. You could easily get another home to clean anyway.

You'd never put yourself in a situation you wouldn't recover from.

That house was going to be the last one for the day. Feeling hungry, you figured you'd go eat at a diner. You passed by a segregated one; Jimmy Bonns, 'Whites only' was on a sign on the door.

A few blocks down from there was one that was named Stan's, 'Coloreds only'. But everyone and anyone was allowed to go in. You've been going there forever, the man that ran it was like family to you. You were one of the few he let take tabs.

You went in, taking in the wonderful smells of food cooking in the back and sat down on a stool in front of the counter. Mr. Stan had just finished sliding a man his drink as you made yourself comfortable.

You waved at him with sweet smile. The old African man smiled back, eyes crinkling and visible laugh lines wrinkling when he realized it was you and hastily came over.

"(Y/n), how are you?"

"I'm good and you?"

"Great. I got more help around here recently." He said laughing. "My son is going to take over soon, I need a break."

You frown a bit. "Oh, well you'll still come by right?"

"Of course, dear!" He leans in and whispers, "I'll still be here, just I'll be the one drinking all liquor." He winks, smirking.

You eyes widen in disbelief and you whisper back. "This is a speakeasy now!?"

"Yes but don't say nothin', alright? Or the pigs will be sniffin' around and those damn Pinks too."

You scowled. "Pinkertons..." You made a disgusted noise and nodded. "I won't say anything. Promise!"

Mr. Stan smiles. " I knew I could count on you. What would you like, dear?"

"I'll have some apple juice."

The bartender nodded and went to pour your drink.

"You look like you need liquor." A male voice resonated, coming from behind. You turned your head to see a handsome fellow.

He sat down next to you, lips quirked into a small smile. You smiled back and arch a brow. "Why do you say that?" You ask.

"You looked sorta fed up and tired walking in."

"I was." You say, exasperated

At that moment, Mr. Stan put down a cute, dainty tea cup and a bottle of apple juice. He was so nice. You grinned and thanked him, before he looked to Booker.

"I'll have a some whisky. Straight."

Mr. Stan nodded and got to it, leaving you and your new friend for a moment. The bottle of apple juice piqued his interest.

"Do you drink?"

"Actually, never." You reply softly. You hope he heard you over the noise of the diner.

Mr. Stan came back and set down his drink and he thanked him, graciously.

He did hear you. "That's a good thing." The brunette turned his body around to face you, elbow on the counter, his hand securing his mug of whiskey. He extended his other hand, offering to take yours.

"I'm Booker. Booker Dewitt."

You moved around and shook his hand, suddenly feeling butterflies in your stomach. "(Y/n) (L/n)."

He squeezed it, playfully and showed off a little of his perfect teeth, before letting go. "Where are you from?"

"Guess." Trying to be the good conversationalist that you are.

Booker lowered his eyes in thought. You took the moment to examine him. The first feature that stood out the most was his calming green eyes. Then his strong jaw, 9 o'clock shadow, a small scar on his top lip, and his nice arms. Although he looked like he was some kind of law enforcement by bullet holder on his jacket. Maybe twenty-eight years old.

"Okay. You're from (Place)?"

"Yeah, I am. Good guess." You smirk. "Are you a cop?"

Booker takes a quick swig of his drink. "Private Investigator."

"Close enough." You laughed, even though it was quite disarming that he was law enforcement and drinking liqour. It was against the law. But you shouldn't be surprised. Cops never follow the rules.

After awhile of getting to know each other, Booker offered to order you something. You refused at first, he insisted profusely and you eventually let him.

He got whatever you wanted. Paid for everything and kept asking if you'd like anything else. For a little while you anticipated that he was only bothering with you because he wanted a fling, like most men nowadays who walked into a bar and chatted up a girl.

The more you spoke with him that assumption dissipated.

Did those men really try this hard? Buying food out was expensive if you weren't a lawyer or mayor or born with a silver spoon in your mouth.

You both laughed and conversed until you were the last ones in the diner.

"Sorry. Diners' closin' now." Mr. Stan said sheepishly, feeling bad about putting a damper on your fun.

It was evening now, 5:30 p.m., and it was Monday. You forgot it closed earlier on Mondays and Wednesdays. You and Mr. Stan exchanged goodbyes and you make your exit with Booker.

He made sure to rush in front of you and hold the door.

 

"Thank you." You give him the most genuine smile you can muster. No ones usually this kind of nice to you. You really lucked out today.

Booker grinned down wolfishly at you. "Anything for you, sweetheart."

You both stood in front of the diner and awkward silence reared its head. Booker slipped his hands into his pockets, averting his eyes.

"I'd like to see you again." Booker chewed the inside of his cheek. "Maybe I could take you home?" He asked, hopefully, blush faint on his cheeks.

"Wow,already?" You say in mock surprise.

Booker chuckles and pinches the bridge of his nose. "That's not what I meant, but I'll take up the offer."

You smile at him coyly. "See you around, Booker. Next time I'll pay for the meal."

Booker's face fell a bit, obviously disappointed that he wouldn't be having that kind of company. He held up a hand just before you turned on your heel. "Wait,wait."

"Yes?"

"Before I was meaning to ask if I could walk you home. Since its gettin' dark and all."

You briefly considered it. He is cute. And he did spend quite an amount of money on you in the diner. Besides, he just wants to escort you. He doesn't give a bad vibe or look like a rapist or killer.

But how could you know? But he's law enforcement, but-- you thought up all kinds of scenarios in those couple of seconds.

You adverted your gaze from Booker to the ground at the potential thought of him being that kind of person.

Booker cleared his throat, getting back your attention. "Just to your door. Then I'll leave. I'm not a creep, lady..." He says, tone serious, mouth set in a slight scowl.

"Okay. I trust you..."

Booker suppresses a chuckle and smiled warily at the obvious doubt in your voice.

He walked up closer to you and held out his arm to you. You locked arms with him gingerly. "Lead the way." He says, smoothly.

 

After almost two miles of walking, which by the way was the most pleasant walk you've had in a long time. He gets you to your pouch.

Thunder roared in the clouded sky. Neither of you noticed how dark it had gotten, too busy talking and enjoying each others company.

"Have a nice night." He smiles and moves to unhook his arm.

"Wait." You hold on to his arm before he can distance himself.

"Its going to rain. You can stay until it stops. I don't mind."

"I don't want to impose. A little rain never hurt me." He smiles and his pearly whites make your breath hitch.

"Y-you're not. I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight knowing I left you to walk home in the rain. Especially, after you were so nice."

Booker sighs.

"Please." You frowned. "I really don't mind. Some company would be nice. Especially, yours."

Booker's eyes soften. "Okay. Just until it stops."

*

It was really horrible outside. The sounds of thunder and lighting never seemed to end. The screeching of the wind was unnerving outside as well. You felt bad for any animals and people caught in it.

Booker sat on your couch in your living room, close to the front door. It had been a couple of hours since the rain started. It wasn't to hard to convince him to spend the night. If he tried going home now, it'd be like walking a few miles in a river, especially since the drainage system outside was awful.

You made him some hot chocolate since he didn't feel hungry or just didn't want to impose some more. You gave him a towel so he could shower. Afterwards you got ready for bed.

You only had one bedroom, so he had to sleep on the couch. The couch was okay to sit on, but was really uncomfortable to lay down on.

Later into the night you couldn't fall asleep. Between the storm outside and the excitement of company, it kept you pretty awake. You got up and went to check on Booker. You leaned over the staircase to get a better look.

He looked like he was trying to sleep, but kept shifting.

"Booker?" You called from the stairs.

He sat up to look at you, running a hand through his slightly messed up hair. He'd taken off his tie, jacket, bullet holder, button up shirts, and shoes. Only in an undershirt, slacks and socks.

"Yeah?" He asks, groggy.

"I'm sure the couch is painful. You can sleep in my bed. We're friends after all."

Booker looked at you incredulously.

"What?"

"I can't."

You went down stairs and grabbed his arm,trying to tug him up. Booker pulled back, making you stumble forward. You huffed in annoyance and pulled back but he barely bulged.

"Booker.." You whined. He glared at you with tired eyes. "No. Its okay."

You put you hands on your hips. "Afraid to share a bed with a lady? Earlier it seemed that you wanted to."

Booker's eyes widened slightly in annoyance and he opened his mouth to say something back, but he couldn't find the words.

You boldly put a hand under his chin, subtle pleasantly stinging your hand. "Are you a virgin?" You ask in a teasing tone.

"No!" He blushed. He said that louder than he needed to. He reluctantly pulled his face away and leaned back into the couch,folding his arms.

"Stop being a gentleman. Its boring now."

Booker kisses his teeth and doesn't meet your eyes. After a moment, he gets up. "I'll remain one. Its the right thing to do."

He looks you in the eye. "And I didn't do all that earlier, just so I could sleep with you and go on my marry way. Quit assumin'."

You smiled and shrugged, taking him by the arm. He didn't resist and allowed you to lead him upstairs.

After you both get to your room, you quickly got in and watched him look about before setting his gaze on you. He sighed and went to taking off his belt and unbuttoning his pants.

Your heart raced as he calmly took them off as if you weren't there. But you could see the slight nervous tremble in his hands.

Now he was only in his white undershirt, black boxers and white knee high socks.

You smiled and giggled like he was about to read you a bedtime story. Booker folded his pants and left them in a near by chair in front of your dresser.

You patted the empty spot next to you,enthusiastically. He wordlessly joined you and laid on his side, back to you.

"Way better than the couch?" You ask, unfazed.

"Yeah."

You laid down, facing his back. You could smell his scent from here. It was intoxicating. You were tempted to snuggle up next to him, but decided against it.

Further into the night, the storm didn't get any quieter. It kept you up. But not Booker. He was softly snoring.

The wind was horrifyingly louder and brought thoughts of a tornado being close to the house.

You cringed and scooted over to Booker and hesitantly put your leg over his and rested your arm on his waist, snuggling up. It wasn't to hard even though he was taller. You sighed.

He was warm and the smell got even better. You pressed your entire body to him. It felt so good. You'd deal with any awkwardness in the morning. You fell asleep in no time, the horrible weather pushed to the back of your mind.

*

The sound of chirping birds and automobiles speeding down the street woke Booker up. He went to move his arm, pausing when he felt something warm weigh it down. Then he realized the smaller body pressed up behind him.

He got on his back and sat up. Your arm ended up on his stomach and your leg on one of his.

You looked like an angel in your sleep; sun from the window casted down on your face. Booker didn't have anywhere he needed to be and at the moment staying with you until you woke up was very tempting.

As he was considering his options, you had awaken from his moving around. You tried your hardest not to make a sound when he touched your leg.

Booker makes a move forward, to get more comfortable, but you think he's about to leave. You fist a hand in his shirt, pulling it down as leverage to get to his level. His eyes widen in shock and confusion. He quickly puts a hand over yours.

"Where do you think you're going?" You ask, voice sounding sleepy.

"No where." Booker glares softly at you. "Let go. You're stretching it."

You let go. "Sorry." He still has his hand on yours and froze when you rested your head on his shoulder. "This is nice."

Booker gave you a weird look. "Are you always so affectionate with guests?"

"I don't get guests." You replied, dejectedly. "Haven't had a handsome man in my own bedroom before either. Nice change."

Booker chuckled, appreciating the compliment. He rarely got them. "Thanks."

Feeling bolder, a lot bolder than yesterday and weighing in the fact he hadn't left yet, you get up and straddle his waist. Booker looks at you with question, but silently likes the change in dynamics.

Leaning in, you brush lips with him. He leans into it and puts a hand on your lower back, and holds your cheek with the other. He deepens the kiss and licks your bottom lip, asking for entrance.

You giggle and refuse. Booker groans in the back of his throat and his hand at your lower back slides to your ass and he squeezes it, making you gasp.

He takes advantage and pushes his tongue inside. You hum into the kiss as he dominates your mouth. His hand leaves you cheek and goes to join his other hand at your bottom. He squeezes your cheeks, his blunt nails felt through the fabric of your thin nightgown. He pushes you down into him and grinds against you. You can feel his hardness though his boxers.

Your heart feels as if it beating up to your throat. Booker is relentless continues to grind up into you. He bunches up you nightgown over your waist and breaks the kiss so you can both breathe.

"Booker..." You moan as he returns to your ass cheeks to grope at them. His erection is warm through his boxers. You can feel it press against your bare stomach.

Booker flips you over, so that he's on top and holds your hands above your head. He grins wolfishly down at you and you shyly adverted your eyes. You close them as he nibbles along your jaw line and kisses up to your ear, only lick the shell of it.

His body was so warm. It was too hot. Or maybe it was just you?

You bent your neck as Booker kissed down the side of your face. "Please.."

Booker moved back and let go of your hands to take off his shirt. His lean body was a fantastic site. It was all tight muscle but not to much. His was coated in a thin sweat. He grinned down at you and swipe his tongue over his teeth. Eyeing you like a starving man.

He answered your prayer wordlessly and pulled your nightgown up quickly over your head and tossed it somewhere off to the side. Your free breasts bounced slightly and Booker eyes left your face.

He groaned huskily as he kisses his way down to the valley of your chest. He cups them by the sides and squeezes them against his faces, subtle stinging your sensitive skin.

Its the best kind of pain.

He exhales and sighs before he gently nibbles your nipple and licks it. You arch you back and then moan as he pinches the other before massaging the breast.

He sucks and plays with your breasts, you somehow find your hands in his soft brown hair. It's so smooth in between your fingers that it slips from your fingers. You hold his head and stroke his hair. Booker moans from the attention. Losing his patience the more he hears your heated cries.

He leaves your breasts and kisses down your stomach until he reaches your underwear.

"Oh, Booker..." You whisper and spay your fingers through is hair.

He pulls your thighs open. "(Y/n)..." He growls. "Open." You widen your legs for him. He hooks your legs over his shoulders as he presses his face against your clothed heat. He breathes you in and moans. He's so hard it _fucking hurts_.

He presses his nose against your covered clit and you runt against his face. He groans and sucks at the damp spot on your panties.

"Please..please.."

Booker presses his tongue against your clothed slit and licks up from there. You bite your lip, face contorted into frustration and pleasure.

Booker pulls down your panties and takes off them off. He quickly takes of his boxer and kicks them off as well. He leaves his socks on.

He sinks his face right back to your heat and sucks at the lips of your pussy before, spreading them and starts to lap at your clit. You pull at the roots of his hair as he deviled into you further, sucking hard on you clit and pushing his fingers to the knuckle inside you, curling and uncurling.

He doesn't make any attempt to come up for air.

He's definitely not a virgin.

You thrash against him as you feel your first orgasm coming. You stuttered his name and repeated it like a mantra as you clench tight on his fingers. He doesn't slow down his assault. Even when you start to beg him to stop, he doesn't listen. He only moans, sending vibration on your over sensitive flesh. You can feel tears prick your eyes before he stops completely.

He gets up and sucks your juices off of his fingers, eyes lidded and not looking at you yet.

When he's done, he inspects his fingers and mutters ' _fuck_ '. His face is flushed. With the same hand, he grasps the base of his cock and pumps it firmly, moaning silently. He lowers himself to you, a fond look in his eyes as he watches your face.

He hovers over you and kisses your lips. "Ready?" He smiles and pecks your lips again before you can answer.

"I think I'm in love with uou." You mumble, staring into his eyes, without thinking.

Booker stills and tilts his head slightly. An unreadable look flashing on his face, before he bites his bottom lip and slightly furrows his brows.

He pecks your lips again. "You sure about that?"

"I think so." You mutter and scratch lightly at his back. He wraps your legs around your waist and lines his cock up to your heat.

He smiles a little. "You can't say that now. You might get hurt."

You make a face. "You don't have to say it back."

Booker plants a kiss on you forehead and cheeks, and then your nose. You turn your head away, upset.

"If I say that now, I might disappoint you." He says with all seriousness.

"I'm a mess, (Y/n)." He says, somberly.

You meet his eyes again and tighten your legs around him. "I'll be there to fix you up."

Booker gives you a wary smile and gives you a chaste kiss. "Is that a joke?"

"No." You rub your body against him and he exhales. "So start loving me again." You look at him coyly under your eyelashes and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down.

Booker strokes his cock and kissing you full of passion. He guides it to your opening and thrusts in, sudden and hard. You groan into his mouth as his tongue tangles with yours.

He pistons inside you as you scrap your nails down his back, leaving red marks. Booker breaks the kiss and attacks your neck with his teeth. He sucks and nibbles your neck, marking you up.

You hold the back of his head as you arch into him and let a hand rest on his ass. You dig your nails into his cheek and he mutters a curse before going faster. Its almost painful as he fucks you hard.

He slows down and pistons deep inside you, kissing your shoulder before burying his face in between the junction of your neck and shoulder.

Thin sweat coats your bodies as he increases his pace again. You meet his thrusts,arching your back.

Booker suddenly stops and flips you over on your stomach, making you let out a noise of surprise. He pulls your waist up so that your ass is in the air and starts fucking into you again. He pants and curses, body starting to spasm to its nearing release.

He bends over you, fingers digging into your side. He reaches down and messes with your pussy, coating his fingers with you juices before moving to your clit. He rubs the still sensitive nub fast and applies some pressure.

He leans down to your ear, arching over you. "Oh, (Y/n)...f-fuck, ah, come for me. You're so...tight--" He groans deep in his throat as he buries himself deep inside you and comes. Its warm and filling and it tips you over the edge. You dig your nails into the sheets. His fingers stilled on your clit as he came, but still applied pressure.

"(Y/n)....(Y/n)..." He panted as your walls tightened around him repeatedly.

He leaned on you, most of his weight off you as he kissed you behind the ear. He moves and lays on his side, pulling you to him. You rest press yourself against him and put a leg over his.

You feel something.

"You kept your socks on?"

Booker hums and tightens his hold on your body.

"You are a mess..." You giggle.

"Does it matter?" Booker grumbles, and pushes his nose in your hair, before closing his eyes.

You don't bother to answer and enjoy your after glow.


End file.
